


One

by BloodMageSpectre



Series: Aspiranti Inspirata [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Comfort, F/M, Grey Wardens, Literal Sleeping Together, Moonlight, Nocturnal Thirst, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 09:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17999561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMageSpectre/pseuds/BloodMageSpectre
Summary: It’s just some silly little wanna-be-mini-ficlet, I made forAndrastiniI suggest hitting play onthis songwhile reading this mini-piece.





	One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andrastini](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Andrastini).



> It’s just some silly little wanna-be-mini-ficlet, I made for [Andrastini](https://andrastini.tumblr.com/)  
> I suggest hitting play on [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP92-d6cc9c) while reading this mini-piece.

He revolved on his bedroll again, licking his lips trying to wet his mouth somehow, grumbling uncomfortable, moving his face to the cooler side of the pillow; soon his tongue swiped across his lips one more time, and his jaw slacked slightly open, allowing the cool air of the night to fill his mouth, drying it even further. A slow burning sensation ran down his throat steadily and stronger with each breath; his tongue became restless, gnawing at the roof of his mouth, searching for that needed moisture. Finally, his thirst became so unbearable he snapped awake. His eyes tried to adjust to the faint glow the ambers provided, his still confused mind searching for the source of that rude awakening, his thoughts slurring back in place. His tongue reached again for his lips, involuntarily parting them; they felt crinkled and slightly salty. As he realized he was now awoke, a yawn spread within his withered mouth, painfully stretching his dehydrated lips. Feeling deprived of all fluid in his body, his clumsy hand instinctively reached for the jug at his side. The water flowed inwards in large almost noisy gulps quenching his thirst; a sudden wave of relief crashed through his body and mind, as he regained some sovereignty over his actions and feelings.

As his satisfied body yearned to fall back, his eyes, now accustomed to the dim luminosity, spotted her. For a second, he needed to rub his eyes with the palm of his hands to make sure he wasn't dreaming. His eyes glazed at her again, and a smile tinted his wet lips. He had known her for almost a full year now, and they had been together for a little less than that. Still, to be reminded she was really there, beside him, asleep in his tent, sharing herself so freely with him, never seemed quite real. Tini's breathing, calm and slow soon guided Alistair's to align, easing his racing heart into a quiet admiration. Her soothing, almost inaudible respiration was the sweetest melody he could ever wish to lullaby him to sleep. He could simply wrap himself in her presence and that would unburden all the death and pain from his life; day after day, night after night, her existence was like an ever pacifying balm. Tini supported him in ways he didn't even know he needed, she provided a kind of succor he never imagined was possible, and yet his soul longed for.

Gently he touched a lock of her golden hair, nesting it away from her face. Her expression was softened and settled as she slept, inspiring a growing calmness inside his chest. He wanted to bring her near and amalgamate herself onto him, but he wouldn't dare interrupt such peaceful moment. Deep down inside of him, he knew he had no right over her heart, yet he felt blessed to be able to love her with his own. He felt complete now that she shared herself with him, a state of well being he never devised before. Tini dulcified even the bitterest of the days. To be loved in return was this novelty feeling, this fantastic supernova creating a whole universe of feelings in his chest. Watching her smile made him young, not in his usual childish way, but in a naive, unbattered way, almost as if he would unlive all the horrible moments he had endured. Tini resurfaced a purity and lightheartedness the Blight would have consumed in him. She was restoration, hope, serenity. She was love. His love.

He neared his face to her and gently touched the side of her cheek with the tip of his nose, inhaling her scent; her skin smelt slightly of common soap, there was nothing luxurious about their lives right there camped in the middle of the Blighted land, but still he felt his chest fill with peace. Even asleep, silent and with her mind wandering elsewhere she made him strong. He dropped a very light kiss on her lips, hoping not to wake her; Tini’s lips curved in a beautiful bow of a faint smile, despite her slumber. The sigh of her happiness, of her willingness to be with him burnished his soul into a bliss that he knew he would never experience on his own. Before Tini, Alistair was one, but since she entered his life he became half, and yet, he was much more and even more complete than he ever was before.

Wynne once told him the love one feels can never be equal to what the other feels. But when Tini looked at him, despite knowing the immensity of his feelings, he could not accept such truth; he could always see the same unconditionality, the same adoration in Tini’s eyes. He never doubted the reciprocity of her feelings, even if he never felt truly deserving of it. Everyday, her presence and care reassured him that if what one felt was infinity, the other would fell infinity plus one. Maybe for Wynne two loves of this magnitude could not coexist in time and space, it is one of those marvelous events that happen only once each millions of years. But what Wynne failed to see is that Tini and Alistair did not have two loves, but one.

He mirrored her smile, his mind feeling heavier, craving some sleep; he lowered his body next to hers again, fighting the urge to close his eyes just so he could stare at her peaceful face a while longer. With his feet he reached the edge of the tent canvas, opening it just a little bit so a beam of moonlight could enter, allowing him to appreciate the aquarelle of Tini in all its hues. As he felt his consciousness starting to fade he reached for her hand. It was so small among his, so smooth and gentle, just like all of her; her touch was soft and warm. She was no princess, yet he could but wonder it was only so because life had never granted her the opportunity for she sure looked like one. His thumb caressed the back of her hand with very light strokes. He knew his hands were rough like an unfinished stone; he had thick calluses from his sword and his shield, they were sturdy hands which did their job without pain. Still asleep, Tini intertwined his fingers in Alistair's. Like a perfect fit, her delicate fingers filled the spaces between his own.  As his lips muttered an almost inaudible "I love you", his mind wandered off to dream about her.

**Author's Note:**

> The recommended song is "Clair de Lune" (french for _light of the moon_ ) the third movement of the amazing piano suite "Bergamasque" from Claude Debussy, because at least for me it is one of the most romantic melodies there is.


End file.
